The Gallery
by jumingbean
Summary: Sorry, this isn't a Midsummer Night's dream fic, i just had to put it into a random category. it i all about a gallery in a museum and how much the paintings hate Mondays...
**A/N**

 **Hello! I had to wrote this as art of my English homework and I thought would put it up on here just to see if anyone likes it!**

Monday. Worst day ever. The day the usually quiet, tranquil gallery is filled with shrill screams produced by what can only be described as headless chickens. Monday is the day primary schools come and visit the gallery. I awake to silence, and sigh, maybe the gallery is closed for a bank holiday? Maybe I can relax, have my ornate frame polished? Oh! Today is going to be a fabulous day! Yawning, I smile at the other paintings, "Good day?" They frown and grumble and mutter. I ignore them, they clearly haven't noticed that the gallery isn't filled with the usual Monday screaming. The painting next to me sighs. "Monday," moans Lisa. "Cheer up Lisa! It a bank holiday!" I laugh, in awe of everyone's ignorance, have they really not noticed? However, as soon as I say this, there is a slow creak as the doors of the gallery open. All the paintings around me hold their breaths in anticipation as a few muffled voices converse. There is a moment of deafening silence before I hear the sound I hoped I would not hear for another week: children's laughter. To most, children's laughter is a happy sound, it means joy! But the rest of the paintings and I simply hear evil cackles that bring misery and pain. My good mood is ruthlessly demolished as the children's clattering footsteps grow increasingly nearer. Their teacher babbles on about the 'impressive' paintings in another room and I sigh indignantly. The only impressive photos are in my room, and whenever children come in here, they just create as much destruction as they possibly can! They don't even spare a thought for the ingenious colours flicked onto my expensive canvas. I look around and take in the beauty of my exhibit; exquisite, ebullient, paintings line the cream walls, the polished wooden floor gleams in the morning light pouring from the delicate windows in the ceiling. I hear the teacher stop babbling and begin to prompt the children down the corridor that leads to my room. Tears prick my eyes and tickle my nose as I hear a child scream and another shriek, "Someone has to stop them!" a painting yells desperately, bulging out of his golden frame. The other compositions agree. Nodding vigorously, Lisa says, "I'll distract them!" The moment she announces this, I know that something is going to go wrong, someone is going to end up getting injured, but it's too late to stop her, she has already jumped from her hook and begun to shimmy across the floor. She reaches the doors just as they are flung open by a pig nosed kid who giggles and gurgles as his menacing eyes survey the room. He waddles in and promptly stands on Lisa! She is crushed before my very eyes as more children crash into the room and carelessly stumble right over my lovely Lisa! I want to cry out but drawing attention to myself would be a very bad idea. Once all the children have had their turn at destroying Lisa, the teacher claps to get their attention. "Children! In this room you will find the infamous painting, Mona Lisa, by Leonardo de Vinci. Oh! How odd, it's not there! No bother, just go have a look around kids." She clucks. She then sits on a bench and begins to read. The children stand still for a moment, contemplating whether they should be good or bad. Of course, they choose bad and suddenly, the room is thrust into a world of chaos. Girls skip around, smearing bright red lipstick along the spotless walls and whacking the darker paintings with their grotesque fashion magazines. Boys crash around the room, shoving each other into walls and pretending to shoot each other. Boys get tantalising close to me as they duck invisible bullets. I shriek as one boy smashes into the painting next to me, defacing the beautiful painting of a starry night. My shriek catches the attention of the pig nosed boy who entered the gallery first. He cocks his head, inspecting the beautiful sunset depicted on my canvas, I think he is about to walk away when suddenly, he tugs me off my hook. I tremble as he brings me up behind his head. "What do you want with me?" I stutter. He grunts and my life flashes before my eyes as he lobs me across the room, I hit the floor and there is nothing.

 **A/N Thanks for reading!**


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